Jessie B. Rittenhouse, ed. (1869–1948). The Second Book of Modern Verse. 1922.

A Thrush in the Moonlight

IN came the moon and covered me with wonder,

Touched me and was near me and made me very still.

In came a rush of song, like rain after thunder,

Pouring importunate on my window-sill.

I lowered my head, I hid it, I would not see nor hear,

The birdsong had stricken me, had brought the moon too near.

But when I dared to lift my head, night began to fill

With singing in the darkness. And then the thrush grew still.

And the moon came in, and silence, on my window-sill.